


Imago

by emungere



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From this prompt: <a href="http://imaginehanniballecter.tumblr.com/post/70585456898/imagine-hannibal-lecter-shaving-wills-stubble">Imagine Hannibal Lecter shaving Will’s stubble with an old school straight razor</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imago

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much to louiselux for the beta!

Will slid into the haven of his car and took a few slow breaths before he dialed Hannibal's number. 

"Hello?" 

"I have to cancel for dinner tonight. Sorry." 

"The roast is already in the oven," Hannibal said, with maybe the mildest hint of reproach. "Has something happened?" 

Will hesitated and then sighed. "The guy we were after spat his gum at me and then he hit me in the face. I need to go home and spend some quality time getting gum and someone else's saliva off me."

There was a moment of silence. 

"Come and clean up here," Hannibal said. "Dinner will be ready by the time you're done." 

"How are you not laughing? Even Jack laughed." 

"Well, I haven't seen you yet," Hannibal said, more warmth than amusement in his voice. "When shall I expect you?" 

Will rested his forehead against the steering wheel. It was tempting, especially since his electric razor wouldn't cut it (literally) and he'd have to buy a normal one on the way home. With gum on his face. "Is this one of those invitations I'm supposed to say no to? I'm bad at those, especially when I'm tired."

"All of my invitations to you are genuine, Will." 

"Yeah, okay. Twenty minutes." 

*

Will looked down at the straight razor on the bathroom counter. It gleamed at him. He thought about risking it, but only for a second. He was exhausted and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Not a good time to learn how to shave with edged weapons. 

"I've never used one of these," he said, when Hannibal came back with a towel for him. 

"Ah. And it's all I have."

"Of course it is," Will said, mostly under his breath. Warm smells of garlic and roasting meat drifted up from the kitchen. The idea of sitting down to eat without getting the mess off his face made him feel slightly ill. He started steeling himself for the drive home. 

"Perhaps you would allow me," Hannibal said. 

"Allow you to what?"

Hannibal picked up the razor. "I realize it's a more intimate experience than you may wish to share with me, but surely it's preferable to the alternative?" 

The sound of the word _intimate_ in Hannibal's mouth made Will feel warmer than central heating could account for. He watched their reflections in the black granite countertop, amorphous, bleeding into one another. 

"Only genuine invitations, huh?"

"My word of honor." He laid a solemn hand over his heart, and Will had to smile.

"Okay. How-- Ah. Where do you want me?"

"You may sit on the counter." Hannibal turned on the hot water tap and wet the towel until it steamed. 

"Will dinner be okay without you?" 

"Everything is stable for the moment, yes. There will be a few details to attend to once the roast comes out of the oven. Here, hold this to your face."

Will did and winced. "Does it have to be this hot?"

"Have you never had this done properly?" 

"Seems like a waste. I don't even like paying for haircuts." 

"How fortunate, then, that I am willing to do it for free." Hannibal caught Will's gaze in the mirror, suppressed humor in his eyes.

A leather strop hung on the wall. Will listened to the hiss and scrape as Hannibal passed the blade over it.

"Have you done this before? For someone else?"

"Once or twice," Hannibal said. He whipped up foam in a small brass cup. "I had a friend many years ago who preferred it. He said my touch was lighter than his own."

"This doesn't seem like the kind of thing friends do for each other."

Hannibal raised his eyebrows very slightly.

"Fine. Except in gum-related emergencies."

"Are you asking if he was more than a friend?"

Will looked away, only to have Hannibal press two fingers under his chin and bring him back to center. The foam went on in a few smooth sweeps of the brush and tickled Will's nose.

"None of my business," he said.

"I suppose that's a matter of opinion." 

"I don't want to be rude."

Hannibal gave him a faint smile and picked up the razor. "I think you would very much like to be rude in this instance. Shall I give you an excuse?"

"An excuse?"

Hannibal moved to stand in front of him and tapped one knee until Will spread his legs enough to accommodate him. The inside of Will's thighs pressed against his hips. Will swallowed. 

"Your personal appearance is certainly none of my business, and yet I do think you will cut a far more elegant figure once all of this is gone." He gestured with the razor, a little circular motion that encompassed Will's scruff.

"I'll look about seventeen, and I'll start getting carded again. I'm almost forty, for god's sake."

"That could be fixed just as easily by a decent suit. There. I've been terribly impolite, and now it's your turn."

"Fine. Was he just a friend?"

"No. We were lovers."

Will tried to duck his head again, not quite sure what to do with that blunt statement, but Hannibal wouldn't let him. One hand curled around the side of his neck, and two fingers tangled in the back of his hair to keep him in place.

"Be still now," he said, and touched the blade to Will's skin.

It slid over his jaw and cheek, barely there, a whisper of contact. Will glanced sideways to see the result in the mirror. The patch of bare skin looked unreasonably naked. 

"He was right. Your friend. You do have a light touch." Even to him, his voice sounded strained.

"Does the knowledge that I have had sexual relationships with men in the past make you uncomfortable, Will?"

"Uncomfortable isn't the word, no." 

Hannibal tugged lightly at his hair, and Will tipped his head back to bare his throat. Metal glided up his neck, only a few degrees cooler than his skin. He suppressed a shiver when Hannibal followed its path with one finger.

"Two passes would be better," he said. "I'm not sure we'll have time for a second before dinner. Perhaps afterward."

Will waited for another stroke, up over his jaw and the dip under his lower lip, before he dared to breathe again. "Did you plan this?" he asked.

"I wouldn't go that far. It did occur to me that a cutthroat razor might not be your first choice."

"That's more than I expected you to admit."

The razor's edge cleaned his upper lip in a few deft strokes. Hannibal rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin, and Will felt his breath come short. 

Hannibal tipped his face toward the light, eyes intent on the sweep of the blade. "Psychotherapy is an inherently unfair game. The odds are always in my favor. Perhaps this is my attempt to put us on a more equal footing."

"By holding a knife to my throat?"

"By giving you a weapon to match my own. Any suggestion of unethical behavior can be fatal to someone in my position."

"Is this unethical?"

"I suppose that depends on the result. Do you feel I'm taking advantage of you?" 

"Are you?" 

Hannibal slid the blade up the side of Will's neck and paused, just under his jaw. His fingers were tight in Will's hair. He tugged harder, and Will bent his head back, arched toward him, breathed quick and shallow as Hannibal pressed hard enough over the angle of bone to let him feel the edge. 

"I didn't ask you here tonight to seduce you." 

"So, sudden change of plans?" 

Hannibal let out a faint breath of laughter. "Do you feel seduced?" 

If Will wanted to be honest, he might say that he'd felt nothing else since they met. "I'm not used to being the object of seduction. Not sure I'd recognize the signs." 

"If that's true, I'm afraid I must revise my estimation of the majority of the human race downward yet again." 

He finished the last stroke and wiped a streak of foam from the corner of Will's mouth with his thumb. He kept it there, hand cradling Will's jaw, while he rinsed the razor and laid it aside. 

"Seems harsh," Will said, fighting to keep his voice steady. His heart beat with enough force that he thought Hannibal must feel it through his skin. "I haven't even met most of the human race." 

"Then perhaps they deserve only my sympathy." 

Hannibal finally released him, and Will reached for the towel, less to wipe away the last of the foam than to hide the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. 

"Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"I've always been as honest with you as I can. There's no reason to stop now. I think you are extraordinary, and it's a privilege to know you." He gave Will a quick smile and reached for a black glass bottle on the counter. "One you've made me work for." 

"Jesus, Hannibal," Will mumbled. 

The towel was tugged out of his grasp, and Hannibal shook a few drops of liquid from the bottle onto one hand. He rubbed his palms together. When he smoothed them over Will's face and neck, Will closed his eyes and leaned helplessly into the touch. 

"And now you know what it feels like." Hannibal's voice was a low murmur, close to his ear. "But the seducer may only go so far. The object of seduction must refuse or acquiesce in the end." 

The heat of his body pressed closer, inches from touching. Will kept his eyes shut. "If I say yes and you tell me this was some kind of thought experiment, just remember it's your own fault they let me carry a gun."

Silence. He was right there, so close, his breath on Will's skin. Waiting for him to _acquiesce_. Will thought he could do a little better than that. 

He dragged his cheek along Hannibal's, smooth skin against faint stubble. Lips on Hannibal's jaw and then up, and he fitted their mouths together, breath and warmth and infinite care. He spread his hand out over Hannibal's cheek, thumb at the corner of his mouth, fingers curled under his jaw, and felt him swallow. 

Will pressed in, made the contact between them firmer. He caught Hannibal's lower lip briefly between his. Hannibal took a tiny, sharp breath, and then his hands were on Will's ass, squeezing hard, pulling him to the very edge of the counter. 

Their bodies pressed tight together. Hannibal's teeth caught briefly at his lip. Will opened his mouth, and Hannibal's tongue slid against his. The wet sounds they made and the slide of Will's jeans against the wool of Hannibal's suit echoed off the tile, the only noise in the small room. 

Will could feel the hard line of Hannibal's cock, the spread of his hands, fingertips digging in, pulling him closer. Will held onto his upper arms and ground against him. They gasped into each other's mouths, and Hannibal slid his hands under Will's ass and _picked him up_ off the counter. 

Will clutched at his shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist. Hannibal was still kissing him, hard, slippery, consuming presses of his mouth. He held Will up without any apparent effort. 

"What…" Will said. He didn't get any further. Hannibal mouthed along the underside of his jaw, and the newly bared skin felt like it'd grown new nerve endings. The slow glide of Hannibal's tongue there made him grind his hips forward helplessly. 

"The bedroom, I thought," Hannibal said. 

His voice was a little rough, but otherwise he sounded perfectly in control, as always. Will wondered if he could do something about that. 

He slid down to the floor and backed Hannibal up against the wall. "How about here?" he said, and knelt, slowly, dragging his hands down over Hannibal's chest and stomach to settle on his thighs. 

"You'd be more comfortable on the bed," Hannibal murmured, but his hand was already in Will's hair. 

"I like it better on my knees," Will said. "I'm good at it." 

The line had worked every single time in the men's rooms of various clubs and bars when Will was in college. Nice to know it still worked, even on Hannibal Lecter. His fingers wound tighter in Will's hair. His eyes were half closed as he tugged Will closer. 

In addition to being a good line, it had the advantage of being true. He pushed his face between Hannibal's legs and mouthed at the shape of his cock. The wool went dark under his mouth and tongue, but Hannibal didn't stop him, didn't say a word as Will sucked at him through the cloth and pulled at his belt. 

Will eased his pants and underwear down. His cock stood out, rigid, curved, uncut. Big. 

"Jesus, you're really hung," Will mumbled, already leaning in, tongue curling over the head to taste him. 

"Now who's--" A sharp breath. "--laying it on a bit thick?" 

"Not the first time I've said it, but I swear it's never been more true. Well, hardly ever." Will looked up at him through his lashes and smiled. "Scout's honor." 

Hannibal put a hand over his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall. _"Will."_

"Hmm?" He licked it, base to tip, ran his lips over the shaft, palming his own cock through his jeans. Everything smelled like sex to him now, and he loved the smooth warmth of Hannibal's skin, kissed his inner thighs and mouthed at his balls. 

When Will glanced up again, he found Hannibal watching him with silent intensity. He dropped his gaze again and wrapped his lips around the head of Hannibal's cock. 

It had been years, and it felt so good to have his mouth stretched and filled again like this that he moaned as he took it in, inch by inch, lips tight, tongue curved hard against the underside. The head hit the back of his throat, and he kept going, aware he was showing off now. He wanted to show off, wanted Hannibal to be impressed. He wanted to shake that perfect control. 

Maybe it was that desire that made him lean back and pull off with a wet pop, look up to meet Hannibal's eyes, and say, "You can fuck my mouth if you want to. I like it." 

Hannibal slid his thumb over Will's slick lower lip. He didn't answer, just took his cock in hand and held it steady as he tugged Will forward by his hair. It wasn't until he was in all the way, Will's lips stretched wide around the base, that he spoke, and even then it was too low to catch. Will wasn't even sure it was English. 

He drew his hips back and rocked forward, slowly, and Will tipped his head to give him a straight line to his throat. Breathed hard through his nose. Got his jeans open and fisted his own cock tight. 

He loved the feel of it pushing into his mouth, soft but unyielding, opening him up. Loved the taste, but most of all the peculiar sensation of connection that he'd always had, even with strangers, as he took part of them inside his body. 

It was better with Hannibal, with Hannibal's large hands framing his face, stroking sweat-damp hair back from his forehead, making this gentle and easy for him even when he pushed in deep and held there while Will swallowed convulsively around him. 

His strokes grew shorter and faster. Will sucked at him hard, cheeks hollowed out. He felt a tremor in Hannibal's fingers as they touched him there, as he traced the movement of his own cock through Will's skin. 

"Look at me," Hannibal said. "Will, _please_." 

He sounded wrecked, and, when Will opened his eyes to stare up at him, he didn't look much better. Cheeks flushed, hair falling in his face, driving himself forward into Will's mouth. Beautiful. Will thumbed at the head of his own cock, teasing himself, waiting. 

"Close," Hannibal said, and started to pull back. Will followed, leaning forward until Hannibal had nowhere to go, and then he was pulling at Will's hair and coming down his throat. 

As Hannibal pulled out, Will closed his eyes and jerked himself hard. He focused inward the way he always did, but the light touches on his face were new, and his rhythm faltered as he felt Hannibal join him on the floor, felt Hannibal's hand over his. 

"Let me," he said, and Will did. He let go, let Hannibal kiss him, open-mouthed and searching after his own taste in a way that made Will pant and thrust harder into his hand. He was close, straining toward release, and when Hannibal broke the kiss to duck down and lick across the head of his cock, that was it. 

Will stared, transfixed, at the speck of white on Hannibal's mouth and the streak of it on his waistcoat. He licked it from his mouth and tried to make himself apologize for the waistcoat, but it was hopeless. He liked the look of it too much, wanted to rub it in and make the stain permanent. 

Hannibal pulled him in for another kiss, slower this time, lingering. He tugged Will closer, one knee between his. Will would've been happy to stay there and ignore the tangled mess of their clothing for much longer than the five seconds they got before Hannibal's pocket started beeping. 

"What...?" 

Hannibal closed his eyes briefly. "Remote thermometer. I need to tend to dinner." 

Will looked at him, with his pants around his knees and come on his suit and his mouth swollen from kisses. All Will's doing. Beautiful, but maybe not that comfortable for Hannibal. 

"I'll get it out," Will said. He stood and zipped up his jeans. "That's all I have to do, right?" 

"That's all, yes. Thank you. I'll be down in just a moment." 

Will set the roast on top of the stove. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and splashed his face with cool water. His knees ached, which they seldom had in college. 

Wind beat against the glass behind the blinds. Will's mind kept presenting him with the memory of that kiss after it was all over, of Hannibal's careful and sincere touch. 

Footsteps behind him. He turned. Hannibal had changed his clothes entirely, dark pants and a camel colored pullover: his version of casual. It made Will smile. 

Hannibal checked the roast and the pot on the stove and retrieved a few things from the fridge. Will sat in the leather chair in the corner, happy just to watch and be quiet. He wondered if Hannibal would want to do it again. Nice if he did, not the end of the world if he didn't. He might even want more. 

It was strange even to consider it. Will's last real relationship had ended when he was twenty six and still in New Orleans. He'd broken it off while he was in the hospital with a knife wound in his shoulder. She would've waited till he recovered. He left New Orleans for George Washington University, homicide for forensics, only a month later. At this point, it felt like another life entirely. 

He stood, suddenly restless. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked. The question was usually fruitless. Hannibal didn't let his guests work for their dinner. 

"You may light the candles if you wish. You know where the matches are?"

"Yeah, got it." 

Will wandered into the dining room and lit the little forest of white candles in their angular crystal candlesticks. They flickered, reflected in the tabletop, two pools of light, one above and one below. Will adjusted the dimmer switch on the wall so that the electric lights filled in the corners that the flame couldn't reach. 

Hannibal was there in a moment with their plates. The roast was some kind of roulade with a mushroom filling and a blood red sauce. No discourse on it from Hannibal.

Will glanced at him after the first bite. "It's good," he said. "Thank you." 

"You are most welcome." 

"You know this isn't going to go well if you leave all the conversation to me, right?" 

Hannibal set down his fork. "Will you stay tonight?" he asked. 

"Yes," he said, immediately, surprised by the warmth that spread out in his chest, like the glow of an internal candle. "I'd like that." 

"Good," Hannibal said, tone lighter once again, more sure. "Perhaps in the morning we can even find you a decent suit."

"You say that like it's a joke, but you'd buy me a suit in a heartbeat if you thought I'd let you get away with it." 

"Perhaps. And would you? Let me get away with it?" 

"Maybe. I guess we'll see." 

Hannibal smiled at him, slow and fond. Shadows and warmth painted his face, and the candlelight reflected in his eyes. Will could still taste him, despite the meat and wine, and wanted to taste him again.

**Author's Note:**

> [emungere.tumblr.com](http://emungere.tumblr.com)


End file.
